Holding Out for Hope
by artemis-nz
Summary: Yuuri surrenders himself in place of another and is consequently captured. Can Conrad and the others rescue him before it is too late? Conrad/Yuuri.
1. Capture

**I wanted to get at least one more fic out for the year - and as I've been craving ConYuu lately and have possibly read every ConYuu fic publicly in existence, I ran with this little plot-bunny. The plot isn't exactly complex, but Hurt/Comfort is definitely my bag, so I hope you all enjoy. And keep writing, guys - I read every single ConYuu fic I can get my hands on. **

* * *

Yuuri came to with a stifled moan – stifled, because even in a semi-conscious state he did not want his captors to know that he was awake, and didn't want to give them the satisfaction of his pain in any case. And it did hurt. Quite a lot if he allowed himself to dwell on it, but he did his best not to do so. He fixed his mind instead on what he had been dreaming about only moments ago. Julia was beautiful in his mind, in a way that Yuuri knew she had also been when she had been alive. Her eyes, as clear a blue as his pendant, saw him and smiled at him. She had not spoken, but Yuuri had heard her voice inside his head. _Just a little longer_, she had encouraged him. _Just a little longer, and he will come for you. How could he not? _He wished he could hear her again now, but her voice had disappeared as soon as his eyes had opened. He did not even have the necklace anymore to remind him of her; he had thrown it to the ground in an attempt to lead Conrad and the others in the right direction. The slight weight of the pendent against his skin had been a comfort in many situations before, and he felt the absence of it keenly now, when he was in one of the worst fixes he had put himself in yet. But perhaps, he reminded himself, perhaps even now Conrad held it in his hand. Perhaps even now Conrad was making his way here, having used the necklace as a clue to Yuuri's whereabouts. Perhaps-

The door to his cell opened with a high-pitched grating sound, and Yuuri tried not to move, not to flinch. _I'm not afraid_, he said in his head. _I'm not afraid at all. You can hurt me all you want, but I won't be afraid. _

He only wished it were true.

*

"Let her go!" Yuuri was angry – he could feel the Maou seething beneath his skin, and knew that all hell would break loose if he gave into it too hastily. So he repressed his other self as best as he could, and did his best to remain calm. This was no easy task when a group of men stood before him, one of whom held a knife up to a screaming child's neck. Yuuri had never been able to bear the sound of a child crying out of fear. He only had to picture his own daughter's face in the place of this human child's for the Maou to threaten to overwhelm him again. Quickly, feeling the Maou snarling once again somewhere in his chest at this thought, he took a deep breath.

"If you harm her in any way, you must know what will happen."

The man holding the knife grinned repulsively, showing broken and yellowed teeth, and Yuuri's fists clenched painfully.

"Sure I do. You'll transform into that monster, and no doubt kill every man, woman and child standing here. But maybe a few of your own, too, hmm? And before you even get your way over here, this child will be dead. Even if you kill me, it won't save her."

"… Tell me what you want." Behind him, Conrad took a compulsive step forward, sword drawn. Yuuri shook his head. "Wait", he said softly, and Conrad stilled instantly.

"Want? It's simple. You. In exchange for her."

"No!" Five voices sounded at once. Conrad, Wolfram, Gwendal, Gunter and Josak had all spoken as one.

The man shrugged carelessly, and pushed the knife a little deeper into the child's skin. The small girl tried to flinch away, but her neck was being held so that there was nowhere for her to go. A tiny drop of blood, vivid red against her ashen skin, dribbled down and disappeared beneath her clothing. She gave a sob and closed her eyes tightly, afraid to look.

"I won't wait all day. You have a few seconds left to choose. Her life for yours."

Yuuri looked at him square in the eye, resolutely avoiding anyone else's' gaze. "You'll let her go if I give myself up, without harming her at all?"

"Yuuri!"

"Heika!"

Yuuri ignored the cries that came from behind, and the man in front of him licked his lips, sensing victory.

"That's right."

"Nor anyone else here?"

"That's the deal."

Yuuri took a step forward. He dropped his sword, but made sure not to break eye contact with the child's captor. He registered, vaguely, a woman weeping from somewhere close by, and knew it was the child's mother. What choice did he really have?

"I accept. Now let her go." He blocked out the sounds coming from behind him.

"You come forward first. And if I see any of your men taking one more step forward, I'll kill her. Don't think I'll hesitate."

Yuuri slowly took another few steps forward, closing the gap between the two of them. The enemy was outnumbered and outclassed, but the village was burning and the child could not be disregarded. This was his kingdom, Yuuri thought to himself. Every life counted. What kind of king would he be if he let a child die, who otherwise could have lived?

"No! Yuuri!"

He turned around, only now seeing the faces of his friends, his family in this world. Their eyes begged him not to go. Even Josak looked uncharacteristically alarmed, his voice grim.

"Don't do it, kiddo."

And Yuuri smiled sadly. No. There was no other choice, and he knew it.

"Sorry", he said. "But I'll be okay. Please don't move."

He raised his hand and a shield appeared, keeping his retainers locked within. It was their duty to try and prevent him from sacrificing himself – this he understood well. So he did not feel too guilty about using his magic in this way; not if it meant he could keep a promise to a child.

The thought occurred to him that he could let the Maou form take over as soon as the child was free. It would be risky, but he was sure it could be done, and without putting anyone's life at risk. A few more unhesitant strides and he stood face to face with the man who held the girl. The others stood frozen in their places, swords drawn uselessly. They looked a ragged bunch, and Yuuri saw that they were acting out of hatred, but as equally out of desperation. Still, he made his voice firm.

"You have me. Now let her go."

The man hesitated. Had he perhaps not expected his plan to go so smoothly? For one horrible moment, Yuuri thought they would kill the girl anyway. But she was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, and given a rough shove out of the way.

_Now._ This voice of his other self resounded loudly in his mind. Yuuri felt the power course through his veins, and his eyes began to narrow dangerously. Desperate or not, this band of unruly men would pay dearly for having put in danger the innocent life of a child-

But it was too late. He felt the man spin him suddenly around so that he was facing his own men, and he sensed rather than saw the arm of his captor snake too swiftly up to his neck. There was an abrupt squeeze at a specific point there, and before Yuuri could think, before he could say or do anything more at all, his knees buckled of their own accord. The world spun sickeningly, and the last thing he was aware of before his eyes closed was Conrad's horrified expression, his voice screaming his name.

*

By the time Yuuri had woken from the sleep he had been dragged down into, he was already in a cell, dark and dank. Something was being held under his nose, and he gagged. His head was pounding already, and the smell of whatever it was only made it worse.

"Good, you're awake. Drink up."

"Wha-"

He didn't have time to say anything else. A man – different from the one who had captured him – held him roughly as Yuuri tried to struggle. He didn't know what it was that the man held in the cup, but he knew that there was no way he was going to drink it. It smelt foul, and looked no less so. But there was still enough time, still just enough time to summon the Maou and rip this cell to pieces-

With one large, overpowering hand, the man yanked Yuuri's hair back with a jerk so that his eyes were made to face straight up towards the ceiling.

"Make him drink. And don't be gentle about it."

A second man, this one lean and scrawny-looking, took the cup and held Yuuri's nose. Yuuri could do nothing but open his mouth to breathe, and the liquid was poured down his throat without delay. A very little was spat rebelliously out, only to be replaced by more which Yuuri swallowed, choking as he did so, hating himself.

"That's enough. Too much of that and he won't be waking up at all." They turned to walk away.

"Wait! What did you give me?"

The first man kept walking, but the second turned around and smiled in a way that made Yuuri's flesh crawl.

"Just a little something that'll keep you good and quiet. Can't have you turning into that monster everyone's heard about and destroying the place, can we? No, you'll stay put until we're ready to hand you over to someone who'll take _proper_ care of you."

"Shut up and keep walking", the first one growled. "He doesn't need to hear anything he doesn't already know."

The second man shrugged and obeyed, and the gate crashed closed behind them. Yuuri tried to stand as he heard their echoing footsteps die away, and found that he couldn't. In fact, he couldn't even seem to see straight ahead, let alone walk. The room wavered before his eyes, looking for all the world as if it was leaning to and fro. Could he perhaps be on a boat? But no, he couldn't be, this was not the same feeling he got while at sea. And the floor underneath him was not wood, not even stone, but hard, unyielding earth. But his balance was definitely off, because whatever was in that concoction couldn't have been good for him-

The Maou. He needed the Maou, now, before his energy ran out altogether. He could still feel him, somewhere below the tumult of his other thoughts, not too far away to summon. If he could just manage to reach him-

But the Maou slid from his grasp, like water slipping through his fingers, and Yuuri's eyes closed. He heard a muffled thump as his body fell to the side, but felt nothing more than the vague coolness of the earth beneath him. At least, he thought, there was no pain. And when he woke up- yes, as soon as he woke up again, he could summon the Maou, and bring this place crashing down, and nobody would stop him-

He slept for a time, and did not dream.

*

When Yuuri opened his eyes again, he was alone, and all appeared quiet. His head continued to throb unmercifully, but the cold was worse-

He looked down, and saw that he was naked. His breath hitched in his throat. Surely not- they would never- No.

"Calm down, just calm down", Yuuri told himself under his breath, and made himself stop shivering by drawing his knees up to his chin and winding his arms tightly around his legs, fingers gripping his upper arms as hard as they could. No. He would've known, he told himself, if something had happened. They were just trying to scare him. Intimidate him. It wouldn't work, he wasn't scared, he wouldn't tell them anything-

But what did they want? This wasn't some spy movie, where some guy was captured in order for secrets to be spilled. He didn't know anything – nothing that others didn't already know. But he was _worth_ something. Was there still some kind of bounty out there for capturing a double-black? And yes, he knew, if they demanded money for Yuuri's safe return, then of course they would be given whatever amount they could ask for. Shin Makoku was not a poor kingdom. But then, one of the men from before had mentioned that he would be handed over to someone else, before his superior had ordered him not to speak. Which meant that someone else wanted him for something, and the group that had captured him would be paid for doing so. But who wanted him so badly?

Well. Yuuri supposed that was a no-brainer. Dai Shimaron was hardly a stretch of the imagination, and Yuuri was sure that they would pay for him every bit as handsomely as Shin Makoku would pay for his safe return.

So they wouldn't kill him, then. Nor harm him too badly – not if they wanted him handed over without risking his death. So. He was uncomfortable, but perfectly safe for the moment.

Somehow, the thought wasn't as reassuring as Yuuri had intended it to be. His hand stole up to his collarbone before he realized that the pendent was no longer there. Somehow, he had managed to drag it forcefully from his body in the one moment that he had regained consciousness during the ride here, wherever 'here' was. He remembered only the sound of horse hooves thundering about him, and the creak of leather, and the dust in his eyes from the speed at which they had been travelling.

But perhaps it was for the best. They had taken his clothes – it was likely they would have taken his necklace away as well if he had still been in possession of it, and destroyed it for all he knew. No, he had done what was best. Conrad was a skilled tracker. So was Josak. If they followed in his tracks, if they passed by where he had been taken, he was sure they would spot the necklace, and would know they were on the right path no matter how convoluted the trail was.

His back was getting stiff from curling forward. Yuuri forced himself to get up despite the cold, and stretch his legs a little. His shivering was back in full force now that there was so much less body heat to draw from, but it couldn't be helped. And he really needed to pee.

There was nothing in his cell – no blanket, let alone some container for use as a chamber pot. He sat again, in the same position as before, and waited. And waited.

Nothing. Not even a lone footstep from anywhere in the building. Not a whisper to confirm that anyone was around for miles. And perhaps there wasn't, he thought with a sudden jolt. Perhaps they meant to leave him here until whoever it was would come for him.

No. They would have guards, somewhere. They wouldn't risk letting him being rescued by abandoning him. This was, perhaps, some other kind of scare tactic. He wouldn't fall for it.

But he _really_ needed to go.

It was humiliating, peeing in the far corner like an animal. And it was probably meant to be humiliating. They wouldn't hurt him, but they meant to have as much fun with him as they could before the end. Yuuri resolved not to let it get to him, and resolutely turned his face away from the puddle on the floor. The cell was small enough that he could already smell the waste, but he would put up with it. What else was there to do? But he wished he at least had something to cover himself with. And his head was still pounding.

*

An almighty crash dragged Yuuri out of a doze. Yet another man stood before him, glaring. Yuuri glared right back, in an attempt to cover the fact that he felt too exhausted to really speak.

"You. Drink this."

"No."

The man sighed. "Its water. Your body needs this."

Suspicious, Yuuri peered up at him. "You're lying."

"I'm not. Please drink it, or-"

Yuuri's eyes widened. "'Please'?"

A grimace. "Look, if you don't hurry up and drink this, I get in trouble, and you end up getting it forced down your throat anyway. Just do this the easy way and let me get back upstairs."

"So we're downstairs now? Where else are we?"

"_Nowhere._" He sounded angry now, and Yuuri gave up.

"Fine, I'll drink it. In exchange for a blanket. Or for my clothes."

They stared at each other, the man's frustration evident. "I'm not the boss around here. I can't say what I can and can't give you."

Yuuri looked at him, noticing for the first time the details of the man's appearance. His clothes were tattered and worn, and roughly patched in more than a few places. His face looked just as worn, and altogether too thin. Not really angry, though. Just tired, and exasperated. His body language told Yuuri that he didn't want to be here – not really. Did he want to be somewhere else? Maybe at home, where he could be away from a lifestyle that he did not wish to be involved in?

"Do you have a family?" Yuuri asked.

Now the man just looked surprised, and… yes, and even slightly ashamed.

"… I have a wife, and two young sons."

Yuuri nodded, and rested his chin on his knees. "I have a daughter. I want her to know I'm okay."

Silence, stretching out between them. They understood each other, at least a little.

The man put the cup down between them. "Drink it. I'll see what I can do about that blanket."

He left, then, and shut the door behind him. Yuuri heard it lock into place, and hoped he hadn't gotten the man into any trouble. He drank the water – it was, after all only water as he had said – and settled back down to wait.

*

Time passed. Yuuri didn't know how long, but he hadn't quite fallen back asleep again when the same man returned, clutching a blanket in one hand which he twisted nervously with his fingers as he unlocked the door.

"I told them you might die if you didn't keep warm enough. Here."

Yuuri reached out gratefully, murmuring his thanks. His voice wasn't working right now; it was weak and croaky, like he had been yelling for hours. Maybe he was just getting sick. The conditions weren't exactly great for his health, he supposed. Even the air around him felt stale and stuffy.

"I don't have any food, sorry. They said let you go hungry, in case you have enough strength to do something."

Yuuri nodded his understanding. "And what they made me drink?"

"A drug to make you sleep. And…"

"And?"

The man looked away, ashamed again. "And I heard someone say it represses power. Demon power."

"I see." That explained something, at least. "Who are they handing me over to? Dai Shimaron?"

"I didn't ask."

Yuuri looked at him, eyes devoid of judgment. "You didn't want to know."

The man didn't argue.

"I don't have the strength to summon the Maou anyway. Why make me sleep?"

"Guess they didn't want to take the risk."

"They're afraid of me."

"Shouldn't they be?"

Yuuri wondered if this man – this human man, with a family to protect – had been raised to fear demons as if they were hell-spawn. Did he fear they would come in the night, burn his village, kill his sons, steal away his wife? The very thought made him feel ill.

"No. I don't think so. At least, not in the way you're thinking."

There was a thump from somewhere down the corridor, and an authoritative yell a moment afterwards.

"I have to go."

"I know."

The man left without looking back, and Yuuri drew the blanket more closely around himself, breathing out slowly. He told himself Conrad would be coming soon, along with the others. He would tell Greta he was safe, he would see her soon…

The water had not gone very far, because his throat still ached along with his head, but he knew he would need to pee again soon. Perhaps the drugs-

He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling defeated. But when he eventually opened them again – he supposed he had fallen asleep at some point without realizing it – his blanket was tucked more securely around his shoulders, and there was a piece of bread and an only slightly dried out apple sitting at his feet.

*

Yuuri had no way of telling how much time had passed since he was first brought here. There was no window to let in sunlight, nor really any air at all, and by what he had been told, he thought he was probably underground anyway. That would account for the eerie lack of sound at most times, Yuuri guessed. One more guard had appeared since he had been left the food, and he had not spoken – just forced more liquid down Yuuri's throat. It hadn't been water. He had peed twice more, both times in the same corner. The smell made Yuuri want to retch, but there was nothing he could do about it. Several times he made himself get up and walk around, easing the cramps from his legs and back. There seemed little else to be done, other than to sleep and to wait. He had already examined the door. A heavy, rusted padlock rested behind the bars on the metal gate. The corridor beyond was dim, lit up by a single torch. He could see nothing more than this, however much he angled his head and peered into the shadows.

To take his mind off darker thoughts, Yuuri often pictured his friends in his mind. He knew they would not rest until he was rescued. And who better to trust for such a rescue than his friends? They were more capable than he was by far, and knew the land well. They could not be so very far away. And Greta would be waiting for him, once he got back to the castle. He couldn't give up hope now – not when his friends could be so close. Even now, they could be approaching this dungeon of his. He just had to keep believing.

"Keep hoping." His own voice spoke faintly into the darkness.

But it was sometimes not so easy to do so; not when he felt so weak. Yuuri wasn't sure if it was whatever he had been given to drink again, or if it was simply lack of food. Realistically, he reasoned, he had probably been here for a couple of days, and in that time he had been given only one drink of water, along with what the guard had managed to steal for him. And the cold sapped his energy, along with his will, so that it was difficult to stand again after he had woken up that last time. He had used the wall to support himself as he had walked around.

But he must have been in worse condition than he thought, because he didn't even hear the gate clang as it was opened again, and only woke when he was nudged roughly with a boot. Or perhaps he had only fallen asleep again. Blearily, he looked up, recognizing the man who had been his original captor. His mouth moved, but Yuuri shook his head, not understanding.

"What?"

"I said, get up."

Yuuri saw no particular reason to co-operate, so the guard was obliged to haul Yuuri bodily to his feet. The blanket was taken away from him, and Yuuri was too proud to protest. He did his best to look his captor straight in the eye, lifting up his chin.

"In another couple of days", said the man, "you'll be off my hands. Until then, you'll just have to do with what you've been given."

"That would be the blanket you've just taken back from me."

Without warning, the guard snarled, and Yuuri reeled as he was struck across the face.

"Even that was too good for you! What did you expect – you, a filthy demon who uses your disgusting magic to get your own way and kill our own!"

"I haven't killed anybody-"

Yuuri was hit again for his trouble, this time in the side of his stomach. He doubled over, hands and knees on the floor.

"Not yet you haven't, but you will. Just like the rest of your kind!" He spat, looking down on Yuuri from above. "And don't think I don't know what you were trying to do with that guard. I know he stole food to give to you. What did you do – make some empty promise to help feed his family? Well, guess what? We've all got families. And we don't accept charity from any dammed monster like you, even if we thought for a second that you'd keep to your word!"

His boot was atop one of Yuuri's hands, crushing down on his fingers. Yuuri kept his teeth firmly clenched.

"I can't even stand the sight of you. Or the smell. You disgust me, you hear? You _disgust_ me."

He spat again, and pressed down harder with his boot for another moment before turning to leave, the blanket in his hands.

"Oh. And don't expect to see that other guard again. He's been taken care of. Thanks to you."

Yuuri didn't look at him as he left. He didn't want the man to see his face, knowing that any concern he showed for his previous guard would only land both of them in more trouble. He only hoped that he had not inadvertently caused danger for a family who had acted simply out of survival.

*

Minutes passed. Or hours did. Yuuri only knew that, after a time, he managed to gather enough tattered strength to laboriously drag himself up from the floor and prop himself back against the wall. He fingered the bruise forming underneath his eye, and decided not to touch his stomach at all, which felt tender and raw even by breathing in too deeply.

Thrice more, guards – none of them the same – came in to make him drink. Once it was water. The other two times was the same liquid as before; cupfuls of it. It drained him utterly, made him groggy, and did nothing to ease his thirst or fill his stomach. He stumbled to the corner several more times to pee; as painful as it was to do so, Yuuri could not face urinating where he sat. But the smell grew quite terrible, and once, Yuuri could not stop himself from vomiting, gasping and heaving as he did so. Afterwards, he could only slump back in the corner furthest from the stench, and tell himself that it would surely be over soon. And if he had to wait days more, weeks more even, to be rescued, he would be in someone else's' hands. Even if it was in Dai Shimaron's, at the very least he could get away from this tiny cell that seemed, little by little, to be closing in on him.

By the time Yuuri was visited again, he was lying down. The ground wasn't comfortable or warm, but Yuuri was growing number to the sensation now, and in any case, he felt a little less dizzy when he felt the hard solidity of the earth beneath him. It even felt oddly reassuring after all this time of pressing against the wall.

Those same boots passed in front of his eyes.

"Look at me."

Yuuri stared straight ahead.

"I said look at me!"

Yuuri groaned and curled in on himself as he was kicked, purposefully in exactly the same spot as before. He had not cried out, at least.

"You're no better than a mangy, half-breed dog. You should be grateful that you've been spared. If it were up to me, I'd kill you and every single one of your kind."

Yuuri kept silent, following the boots with his eyes as they paced backwards and forwards before him.

"You can give up whatever notion you have about you being rescued. They aren't coming. Do you understand? Nobody's coming for you."

Yuuri's breath caught.

"That's right. Do you know how I know that? Here."

A scrap of cloth fluttered to the floor. It was dirty and a little faded, but the colour was easily recognizable.

"What was his name? The one who was so handy with a sword until recently? Conrad, was it?"

Yuuri couldn't breathe. He was suffocating, and paralyzed with a feeling that he could not name.

"We've taken care of him as well. He didn't go down easily, but in the end, he looked just like you do now. A half-breed weakling, who deserved far less than he ever got. I suppose I should at least be grateful that he didn't father any more of you filthy lot-"

"Conrad's not dead."

Laughter in his ears, in his head.

"You don't get much more dead than that, kid. And in an hour or two, none of this will be my problem. I hope I'll never have to set eyes on you again as long as I live. I'd as soon as slit your throat myself."

Yuuri closed his eyes, and ignored everything else but the man in front of him. He stood, bearing with the agony of most of his stiff and aching body as he did so.

"If Conrad is dead", he said, slowly and deliberately, unblinking, "then so are you. Along with every single person in this building."

His voice died away. Energy spent, he sagged against the wall, panting for air.

The guard reached out an arm, and his hand was large enough to fully encircle Yuuri's neck.

"_You_ are dead. And your precious Conrad is waiting for you in hell."

He left, but not before dropping something else in front of Yuuri with a clink. "Here. You should save everyone the trouble."

Yuuri remained stubbornly upright until the door of his cell closed once more. He did not sit so much as collapse, and only took a cursory glimpse at the small knife that glinted on the ground in front of him. Obsidian eyes shut wearily, and did not open again. Yuuri did not have the spirit to weep, but he saw Conrad, wraith-like, pass before him, hand outstretched to help him up. Yet when Yuuri reached for that hand, Conrad disappeared, blown away as smoke scattered by the wind.


	2. Rescue

**The second and final chapter to this fic (which was originally going to be a shortish one-shot, and spun out a lot longer than I anticipated). Hope you all enjoy and are satisfied with the ending. **

**It seems like it's been a little quiet on the ConYuu front lately - but remember: you write it, I'll definitely read it! Thank you all for taking the time to read and review my work - I always appreciate it. **

* * *

Noise. Yuuri's ears did not hear it exactly – neither his ears nor his eyes seemed to be working well – but his mind slowly began to register that something was going on. Something loud. Someone must be here to take him away. Soldiers from Dai Shimaron, then. Or even the king himself? Did it matter? Would he be given water? Would he die before he was?

It took a moment for Yuuri to realize that his eyes were already open. He blinked, but the dark haze in front of him did not clear; even shifting his head didn't make any difference. He was not blind, but neither could he make out anything of significance. And although he knew there was hard ground beneath him – could make out the cold coarseness of the dirt if he moved his fingers back and forth a little –he somehow felt as if he were floating, like the earth – or perhaps it was his body – had no real substance to it.

More noises. Above him, shouting. People giving orders? The clash of steel. It reminded him of swords, but he didn't think it plausible that anyone was fighting. Who was there to fight? Perhaps there were other prisons and gates like his own, and that was what he was hearing now. For all he knew, there could be a whole host of demon or half-blood prisoners being kept here, all to be sold off to the highest bidder.

The floor shook. Or he shook. No, it was the floor after all. More yelling, feet stamping in sturdy leather boots. A scream. Were they torturing other prisoners – the ones not so lucky to be worth as much as he was? He did not know if he would have had the strength to bear torture, and felt guiltily relieved that he had not been tested this way.

A thud, yet more yelling, sounds of crashing filtering down from somewhere above. Well, he supposed humans fought each other just as often as humans and demons did. But he wouldn't make it easy for them, when they came from him. Yuuri groped out for the knife, finding it by touch, and then inched as close to the wall as he could get, rigidly coiling himself into the tightest ball he could possible manage and ignoring the pain that resulted from the movement in his side. He knew he had precious little power, magical or otherwise, with which to defend or fight with. But that didn't mean he'd just roll over and let them take him. He would do whatever he could to stop them. And he wouldn't-

Voices, closer this time, interrupted his thoughts. They scattered; he couldn't hold onto them. Running. He thought he heard his name, but knew he must have misheard, because nobody here would ever call him by his name. Or by his title. And yet… and yet… He gripped the knife, hard. For what, he wasn't sure – he certainly couldn't fend anyone off with it if it came to that. But it was all he had, so he held on to the hilt as if his life depended on it.

Another scream. He didn't turn his head this time – he had no strength to – but he kept his eyes obstinately open. And even if his ears were deceiving him, surely it would be better to die with the voices of those he knew and loved in his mind.

Head pressed to the floor in his effort to stay put, he felt the vibrations of more footsteps. He wanted to close his eyes so as not to see the faces of those who would now be his new keepers, but at the last moment, he decided to leave them open for as long as he could. Even if it was staring straight ahead, not looking at them at all as they came for him, he would not let them think they had won against him. Conrad had gone down fighting. The least Yuuri could do was the same…

He shouldn't have thought of Conrad. It was a torture in its own biting way, now hearing the voice of the soldier in his head which the thought had no doubt invoked. Calling his name with a terrible urgency. It hurt.

The gate burst open.

A gasp, quickly followed by another. Yuuri didn't move. He wasn't sure he could if he wanted to.

"Heika!"

"Bocchan!"

Two voices sounding collectively in his head. Had they killed even Josak, that Yuuri could hear his voice in his head now? He refused to budge, refused to even think.

"Heika! Yuuri, can you hear me?"

He thought he was being lightly shaken, but it was difficult to tell.

"He's freezing-"

"Stay with him, I'm finding something warm-"

"Don't let anyone else down here! Wolfram especially. He doesn't need to see this."

Yuuri flinched. Wolfram too… how many of his friends had they killed? How many lives had he failed to protect this time?

"Yuuri? It's just me, don't be afraid- you can let go of the knife now…"

But he _was_ afraid. Terrified of what he had caused. Ghost hands rolled him over. Yuuri stared into nothing and tightened his grip on the knife, refusing to be tricked into giving it up.

"They're coming, I can't stop them. We need to get him out of here, right now."

He hadn't heard Josak come back. But then, Josak wasn't really there, so that only made sense.

"I think some of his ribs are cracked."

Something soft cocooning his body.

"I know. But it can't be helped, we need to pick him up and run for it, before-"

"YUURI!"

He knew he shouldn't be glad to hear Wolfram's voice, because it only confirmed the worst, but Yuuri was at least thankful that Wolfram shouldn't see him like this, or the cell he had been kept in. It would have been too much, letting any of them see what they had done to him. Shame crept over him at the thought. But he could imagine so vividly Wolfram putting a hand to his mouth, eyes wide, speechlessly shaking his head in denial of what he saw – so vivid that it was as if Yuuri saw it happening, right there in front of him. He blinked. The image, blurred as it was, did not recede from his vision. For a moment he thought he saw Gwendal, too, looking quite terrifying, face whitened with shock and fury.

"Unforgivable", he whispered, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed rage.

But then… it could not be…

No. He wouldn't deceive himself like this. He was seeing things and hearing things, he wouldn't let himself be tricked by his own traitorous thoughts-

"Yuuri? I have to lift you up now. Do you understand?"

Josak spoke softly, intending only Conrad to hear. "He can't hear you. Look at his eyes."

"No. He hears me."

Conrad spoke just as quietly, but in the firm voice that Yuuri knew would allow no argument. If Conrad was really there, that was. Because he wasn't. He _could not_ be. God, if he couldn't make his own mind accept that Conrad wasn't actually there, then he was a bigger coward than everyone thought he was-

Then the floor was no longer beneath him.

It was a far greater shock than Yuuri had anticipated. He let out an anguished gasp before he could stop himself, almost a sob, and clung on to the first thing he came into contact with. And it felt so warm and real in his grip – ten times more real than the ground he had felt only a second ago – that Yuuri's eyes cleared almost fully, just for an instant, as the world sprung into one more brief spurt of life around him. He couldn't see Conrad's face, but his eyes were drawn to a small patch of skin right in front of his eyes, just visible through the tear in Conrad's jacket.

"Conrad…"

There was an instant, resounding silence, for all Yuuri's voice came out barely over a sigh.

"Yuuri-!"

Numerous voices, all at once, telling him not to speak, save his strength, they were getting him out of here- But he needed to speak.

"He told me you were dead", he managed after an effort. Then it was all he could do to hold on to Conrad just as tightly as he could as the world began to darken again. But Conrad's voice was loud enough for Yuuri, and maybe only Yuuri, to hear him.

"I told you once before, remember? I'd never die."

Yuuri couldn't feel his hand as he unclenched it, letting the knife drop to the floor. He fell himself, then, backwards into the black, with Conrad's voice following him there.

_Hold on, Yuuri!_

*

Yuuri did hold on, as best as he was able. He was nothing if not stubborn, as people were so fond of telling him. He probably didn't hold on particularly well – the confused impressions, none of which made much sense, were a testament to that – but he tried. Disorienting images, sounds and smells came and went, swimming throughout his senses: swords, blood, horses, smoke, burning, blankets, voices, water – all in no real order that Yuuri could discern. He became aware, once, of leaning against Conrad as they rode double on a horse, the ground speeding away beneath him. Even this brief glimpse made Yuuri's head spin, and he swayed a little in the saddle. Conrad said something that Yuuri didn't catch – all he heard was a quiet murmuring in his ear – but then, it didn't seem to really matter what was being said, as long as Conrad was the one who said it. Yuuri allowed himself to lean back further into Conrad's chest as arms tightened in front of him, slipping again into a numbed nothingness.

But at some point there was proper, lying-down rest, and someone very gently holding his head up, and a lukewarm liquid poured down his throat which Yuuri at first could not bring himself to swallow, but which eased his pain a little as soon as he was coaxed out of the defensive ball that he didn't recall ever going into.

He couldn't stop himself from wincing though, even after whatever drink he had been given this time, when a warm, wet cloth passed over his body, bit by bit, although he admittedly felt better for it afterwards. Although his eyes stayed closed, he knew it was Conrad, because he had managed to catch a snippet of conversation involving Wolfram being more or less ordered to stay out of the room. Even so, it was humiliating. While Yuuri knew that Conrad would not wrinkle his nose or comment even once about the small basin of water growing gradually darker and darker as the filth was sponged from Yuuri's body, he wished Conrad did not have to see him like this. Conrad must have sensed something of what Yuuri felt, because he began to talk to Yuuri in a low voice as he worked – about home, about Greta, about the village they were in and the people who lived there… Yuuri faded in and out of consciousness, lulled to sleep by the combination of the medicine and Conrad's voice.

And at last, the slight weight of a necklace fastened about his neck. He dreamed properly again and saw Julia, who somehow enfolded him into a full-bodied embrace him without hurting him, and kissed him on once on each side of his face, whispering something that Yuuri forgot as soon as the dream ended. But then, Yuuri could not quite seem to distinguish between what he dreamed and what was really happening anyway.

"Is she alright? The girl who looks like Greta?"

Conrad wasn't sure if Yuuri was lucid, but hastened to answer anyway, his voice reassuring.

"She's fine. In fact, we're staying in her house right now. She wanted me to tell you that her room is yours for as long as you want it."

Yuuri didn't answer, but only sank deeper into the pillows.

*

At some point he was made to eat. Or perhaps eat was the wrong word, since most of what Yuuri remembered ingesting was liquids – although it hurt to swallow nonetheless. Still, in the disjointed times between sleeping and waking, Conrad or someone else made him drink. Never too much at once, or in too big a mouthfuls, but always soon after he woke – Yuuri supposed this was because he could never manage to stay awake for very long; usually only minutes at a time. Sometimes the transition between wake and sleep happened too quickly for Yuuri to even realize before it was too late. But his body craved rest, and then more rest. He dutifully ate whenever Conrad told him to, although strangely enough, Yuuri never really felt hungry.

Numerous times, Yuuri dreamed that he was back in his cell, the walls closing in on him, but also closing off the air little by little as the walls moved towards him, until he could hear only his heart thundering in his ears and smell only the foulness of his own stench. Then he would sit bolt upright in bed, gasping at the suddenness of the pain ruthlessly stabbing up one side and in his gut, and would sometimes have to retch while Conrad – and more than once, to his initial surprise, Gwendal – held him, until Yuuri had stopped shaking quite so violently and felt safe enough to lie down again. He didn't speak during these times, and, taking their cue from him, Conrad and Gwendal likewise held their quiet. Yuuri was afraid that Wolfram would witness these times too, until he heard Conrad mention that Gunter had been convinced to ride back to the castle, and Wolfram with him.

"We thought it best not to travel further until you're feeling a little better", Conrad said.

Yuuri was grateful. Someone had to let Greta know that he was alright, after all. And Gwendal, who had once made Yuuri nervous with his frowns and forbidding silences, was now a very capable and reassuring figure, who seemed to be content working wordlessly beside Conrad in building back up Yuuri's strength. The two brothers seemed to make a good team.

Time slipped by. Between so much constant sleeping and waking, Yuuri couldn't tell how much time, and was not usually lucid enough, or else simply too exhausted, to ask. While in reality it had been only three days, time for Yuuri did not seem disjointed so much as it was either endless, or simply non-existent.

*

On the third night, he awoke and needed air with a desperate force that shook him. Another dream, he told himself – _not real, not real_. But his lungs told him differently, and he knew he had to be outside, where he could _feel_ the air rather than lay there, helplessly struggling for oxygen with every aching breath. And he had to get outside before anyone saw him, because if they did see him they would catch him, and put him back in his cell, and make him-

Yuuri did not think. He simply acted, instinct driving him to slide out of the bed. His legs would not support him at first, and he clung onto the edge of the bed while they trembled weakly underneath him. He forced them into life anyway, biting his tongue against the outbursts of pain that were trapped deep within his chest.

And then he was walking, almost tripping several times in his haste to leave the room, forcing himself to pace himself and keep quiet lest he attract attention from somebody, anybody who might be lurking just around that corner there, waiting for him to pass so that they could make him think he was almost safe before grabbing him-

He was almost sobbing now, straining to keep his breathing quiet by putting his hand over his mouth to stifle the noises that seemed so loud in his ears, the other hand on the wall to help support him as he fled as fast as he dared. The hallway seemed endless, and scared him the most because of all the shadows that clung to the corners and end of it – shadows that could be hiding anything within them, anything at all. And he wasn't sure of the way outside, because he had never seen this place before, had never escaped to get this far. He crept past closed doors, keeping an ear out for any noises beyond his own labored breathing.

The final door between him and what he hoped was freedom was only feet away now. Yuuri placed one foot forward, and then another. Just one more step- just one more step, and he would be right in front of the door. If it should open now- if there was someone just behind that door, ready to take him back-

He closed his eyes and slid one more tremulous foot forwards. And froze. There was no question; someone was there in that room, and although no light filtered beneath the door, Yuuri knew with an awful certainty that whoever was there was not sleeping like the others. Caught between throwing caution to the winds and simply running, or else to stay very still, as still as humanely possible until whoever it was had stopped moving about in there, Yuuri waited, his mind in a blind flurry of panic. No, _no_ – he couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't breathe-

His legs abruptly gave way. Yuuri fell to the floor with a thud, and was unable to hold in the sharp whimper of pain.

Footsteps from behind the door. Yuuri backed up against the wall, watching the door open in a kind of petrified trance before he could bear it no longer, and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

*

Conrad was awake and pacing in what was a so far fruitless attempt to still his mind a little for sleep when he heard the muffled thump, and then the strangled cry that accompanied it. He strode to the door and opened it with a jerk, reminding himself to remain calm as he gazed down at Yuuri, who, judging by his body language, was evidently not thinking coherently.

Conrad's first instinct was to rush over and endeavor to comfort the obviously frightened Yuuri. He held back, however, making himself think about the situation before he acted. If Yuuri wasn't quite aware of where he was and what was happening, it might well be better to approach him slowly, give him time to adjust to his surroundings, let him know that it was Conrad and that nothing would harm him…

"Yuuri…?"

Yuuri looked up at his name – a good sign, thought Conrad, although the nervous, unfocused look in Yuuri's stare and the way in which his body was still tensed, as if to try and flee at any moment, was plain to see. Conrad crouched so that he could be level with Yuuri, and cautiously reached out a hand, making sure to move slowly so that Yuuri could see his every move, and not become yet more afraid from any sudden movement.

Yuuri gazed warily at the approaching hand – not flinching away from it as it came gradually nearer, but neither blinking nor taking his eyes from it.

"Don't be afraid, it's just me…"

Conrad's voice was soft and low-pitched. He wasn't sure if it was this that bought Yuuri back to his senses, or if Yuuri had simply woken up and was now thinking more rationally rather than purely out of fear. But either way, his eyes widened as if surprised, and he blinked a little confusedly as Conrad rested a hand on his shoulder.

"… Conrad? Where…?"

"You were just dreaming, Yuuri. You're back in the human village, remember? With Gwendal and I."

Yuuri put a hand to the side of his head, trying to put together the dissipating images in his mind and connect them with what he saw and felt now.

"I think… I think I was trying to get somewhere… but I can't remember…"

"That's alright. I think I know."

"You do?"

Conrad smiled in answer and stood, still slowly, to walk over to the door leading outside and pull it open. One glance back at Yuuri confirmed his idea; Yuuri had lifted his head further and closed his eyes appreciatively as a slight gust of wind brushed past him, bringing with it the clean smell of freshly dampened earth and cool night air.

"Shall we go?"

Conrad bent down to help Yuuri to his feet. For a moment, Yuuri's eyes reflected something akin to what they had before – not fear, exactly, as much as apprehension, and he hesitated slightly. But that look disappeared as quickly as it had come when Yuuri closed his fingers around Conrad's hand. Relief flashed briefly across his face as Conrad pulled him securely up. He did not question, but only made sure to support Yuuri by putting his other hand around Yuuri's waist as they made their way, Yuuri surprisingly not too unsteady on his feet, out the door.

There was a small wooden porch on which to sit, although they were still completely open to the elements. It was a relatively warm night, but Conrad, noting the small shiver that made its way down Yuuri's back, did not want to take chances.

"Just a moment, Yuuri." He ensured that Yuuri was seated comfortably before walking quickly back into his room, stripping the bed there of its blankets.

Back outside, Yuuri had visibly relaxed, and had tilted his head up towards the sky, letting the air tease through his hair. He looked back as Conrad approached, however, and gave him a tired but satisfied smile. Conrad could have sworn he literally felt his heart leap in answer; the first smile he had seen on Yuuri's face since bringing him back. He wanted above all at that moment to do whatever he could to protect that smile, and to ensure that nobody ever took it away from either of them again.

He wondered if any of this would show on his own face as he arranged the blankets about Yuuri, and positioned himself so that his own back was supported by the outside wall, while Yuuri sat in front and a little beside Conrad, leaning on him as he closed his eyes.

"I don't want to go back inside tonight", he said, not quite asleep.

"That's alright. I'll keep you company out here tonight instead. The fresh air feels good, doesn't it?"

Yuuri didn't answer. Conrad didn't expect him to.

Gwendal found them there in the morning, hair disheveled and a slightly wild look in his eyes that vanished along with the shout of alarm at finding Yuuri no longer in his bedroom.

"Conrart-! Is he…"

"He's fine. Sleeping."

Gwendal looked carefully at them both, noting almost immediately how much more peaceful Yuuri looked, the comfortably slow depth of his breathing, and the already healthier colour that had sprung into Yuuri's cheeks. He wasn't about to mention that Conrad himself looked better than he had for days, too.

"Good", he said gruffly, and although he didn't quite smile, there was a definite lessening of the frown of tension that marked his forehead.

*

Yuuri recovered more quickly after this. Although he still sometimes awoke with a jolt from a sleep which was not deep enough to be as restive as it should have been, he had nonetheless gained a lucidity of mind which meant that he came back to himself far more swiftly after these episodes, and no longer tried to battle against the tides of sleep that claimed him again afterwards. He managed to sleep for longer periods of time, too, and consequently was able to stay awake for more extended periods, and eat a little more each time he did. Conrad, despite having the sort of emotional self-control that was for the most part unparalleled by anyone in Shin Makoku, was sure his relief was palpable as he saw Yuuri's stomach now deal with solid foods again; he shared his relief with Gwendal at Yuuri's body no longer rejecting the nourishment it was given.

Neither Conrad nor Gwendal commented when Yuuri quietly asked if it would be alright to spend another night out of doors.

*

A scant two days later, Yuuri voiced the question of finishing the journey back home. If he was now fit enough to walk mostly unaided, he pointed out, then he should be fit enough to sit astride a horse for a day.

"A full day", Gwendal said, voice flat.

"We can stop and rest if we need to, can't we?"

Gwendal looked at Conrad, who shrugged slightly.

"If it is His Majesty's wish…"

"It is", said Yuuri. "I'm sure I can manage now. And… and I want to see my daughter. Greta should not have had to wait so long."

Gwendal pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning as he thought. It would take time for Yuuri to fully recover, of course; a process that would likely take weeks to fully occur. But Yuuri _did_ look stronger, there was no doubt about that, and you certainly could not fault the boy for not taking responsibility for his familial duties-

"Alright. As you insist. But you will ride double with Conrad. I'll lead the third horse that has been left with us behind mine."

It would be their last evening staying as guests in the house. Yuuri had seen the girl who reminded him so much of Greta twice, and had assured her parents that he didn't mind her visiting, although Gwendal had at first been opposed to the idea after Yuuri mentioned it, arguing that Yuuri should be conserving his strength. Even Gwendal could not resist her charms, however; Hana, whom Yuuri had allowed himself to be given up for, was a year younger than Greta and quite obviously smitten by Yuuri. Unaccountably shy at first, she now liked to sit at Yuuri's bedside and quiz him on all the things he liked: his favourite colour, his favourite food, what his daughter was like. Conrad tried not to look too amused at Gwendal's unmistakable weakness for the earnest, round-eyed child.

It was a bright day the next morning, and Yuuri expressed his gratitude and waved his goodbyes to those that saw him off – most of the villagers, in fact, had wanted to be present as he left, and to personally wish him a safe journey. Conrad saw Yuuri blink back a few tears at the sight, no doubt moved by the sincerity that the villagers showed to a Maou that they had met only once. Perhaps he was also aware that, prior to this, the solely human-occupied community had not been so welcoming of demonkind.

*

It was as well that Yuuri had agreed so readily to ride double. Twice he fell asleep at the saddle, although it was plain that he did not want Conrad or Gwendal to have noticed. They stopped once on the way, at both Conrad and Gwendal's insistence, ostensibly to rest the horses, but chiefly to make sure that Yuuri ate, and was handling the strain of travel without too much trouble. Still, Gwendal was forced to admit, Yuuri appeared to be holding up very well, and it was obvious that Yuuri was eager to arrive back home.

The castle was in sight by the early evening. They had made good time, considering the sedate pace that Conrad had set for them. Yuuri surprised them both a little by asking if he could change horses and ride by himself back through the city boundaries. He didn't say why, but Conrad was sure he wanted to appear as healthy as possible, particularly when it came to first seeing Greta. He saw Gwendal nod approvingly as they moved to prepare the third horse, although he also marked how Gwendal made certain to keep close to Yuuri's side as they set off again – just in case. Conrad, observing the determined look on Yuuri's face and the firm set of his jaw, was satisfied that Yuuri would not need a last-minute rescue from falling off his horse.

Someone had seen them approach, and a greeting party was waiting for them as they crested the hill. Wolfram, unsuccessfully trying to cover his look of worry with annoyance, stood beside Gunter, who was trembling as he restrained himself – quite admirably, under the circumstances, Conrad thought – from launching himself at Yuuri and embracing him full force. Lady Celi was there, holding Greta's hand tightly and also, for Greta's sake, trying to not show her full extent of her concern. The three head maids were also in attendance, and looked just as reassured as anybody else to see Yuuri looking, if not as healthy as they would have liked, then at least well enough to be riding without assistance. Yuuri's choice to switch horses had been a good one.

He slid off the saddle and almost tripped but recovered quickly, righting himself almost at once.

"Yuuri…?"

Greta's voice was wobbly and a little hesitant, unsure whether she was allowed to run forward and hug her father. Yuuri decided for her, breaking into a wide smile and crouching down as Celi let go of her hand. She rushed forwards, nearly crying in her relief.

"Yuuri! They said you got hurt! And you were away for so long, I didn't know if you were okay! They couldn't say when you'd be able to come back-"

Yuuri held her firmly. "I know, and I'm sorry for making you worry so much. I'm alright though, see? I'm only a little tired now, and not really hurt at all…" He rubbed her back and smoothed her hair with his hand, hoping the others would go by his example.

Sure enough, Celi beamed down at Greta. "There now, what did I tell you? Your father's just fine, and after all, he had Gwendal and Conrad to take care of him while he was away."

Greta stepped back, sniffling a little. "Don't go away again soon, okay Yuuri?"

"I won't. It's a promise, right?" Yuuri hooked his pinkie finger around Greta's, finally making her smile.

He made sure to approach Wolfram next, who immediately pulled him forward, looking him up and down intently as he did so.

"Wolfram, no need to look so worried-"

"Who's worried? I wasn't worried at all! You should just be more careful next time, and learn not to be so reckless whenever-"

Yuuri cut him off, hugging Wolfram too, who briefly turned an interesting shade of pink. He buried his head against Yuuri's shoulder for a moment. "Wimp", he said, voice muffled. "Don't worry our daughter like that ever again."

Yuuri hugged Gunter as well, causing spasms of delight to shudder through the taller man's white-clad form. "Oh _Heika!_ Oh, I'm so relieved, but of course I knew you would come back to us safely, of course I did, but I couldn't keep myself from worrying so much, please forgive my faithlessness, Heika-"

"Gunter… it's fine, really", Yuuri managed from against Gunter's chest, hoping he wouldn't get the same treatment from Lady Celi. "I'm alright now, honestly, there's really no need-" He was cut off again as Gunter let forth a wail of joy at Yuuri's return.

Celi surprised him by hugging Yuuri relatively calmly, her hands gripping both of his own. "Yuuri-heika… I'm so glad you're safe!" Her hands tightened as she spoke more quietly. "By how Wolfram reacted, I wasn't sure if…"

Yuuri smiled at her. "I'm alright now. I didn't mean to make anybody worry." But perhaps his surprise at the intensity with which she had spoken showed on his face, because her hands contracted involuntarily around his once more. "I know what it is for a mother to worry about a son", she said simply. Her eyes met Gwendal's and Conrad's over Yuuri's shoulder, and he knew that she was not only talking about him.

In the end, it was a much cheerier crowd that entered the main doors through to the castle, although Gunter had spotted Yuuri wilting slightly, and had taken it upon himself to ensure that Yuuri went straight to rest. But Yuuri dawdled slightly, waiting for the others to go in ahead of him, a hint of unsurety reminding him unconsciously of a more unpleasant entrance.

Conrad understood. "I'll make sure your windows are left open", he said softly, so that nobody else except perhaps Gwendal, bringing up the procession behind them, could hear.

Yuuri nodded his thanks, looking up at the stone carvings marking the way into the castle.

"I'm home", he said under his breath to himself, and felt something hard finally begin to melt away in his chest.

Conrad answered him anyway.

"Welcome home, Yuuri."


End file.
